


All I Want

by whatkindofladyareyou



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Explicit Language, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 02:44:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatkindofladyareyou/pseuds/whatkindofladyareyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>bank robbers au. angry! stiles, isaac starts freaking out  and stiles has to calm him down</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Want

"Derek, what..."

"I'm sorry. I have to, I'm-"

Stiles dropped the empty safety deposit box and charged for the vault door, shoving Scott to the side just as he started screaming at Derek. The older werewolf's eyes widened. He palmed the diamonds, mouthed something Stiles couldn't make out, took a step back, and slammed his palm down on the wall next to him. He stared into the vault until the huge metal doors slammed shut, plunging everyone still inside into total darkness. 

Stiles slammed his fists against the cold metal. The impact made a dull, hollow sound. He heard the gears clicking, the locks sliding into place, and screamed, punching the door one more time. The second hit didn't have the same effect as the first, without the force of his weight behind it. The room was utterly silent when he pulled away. He felt everyone shuffling behind him, too stunned to move or speak.

"I told you," he muttered, his voice coming out low and guttural. "I fucking told you!" He whirled around, hands still clenching into fists. "I told you he was too much of a wild card! We stick with the team!" His voice, strained from too many cigarettes, cracked on the words, but it didn't stop him from screaming at the top of his lungs. 

"The _team_! People we trust! Muscle we can manage! Not some pumped up pretty boy who whines too much! I told you! I told you he wasn't trustworthy!"

"Stiles, we can still-" Allison took a step forward, but Stiles wouldn't be derailed.

"No! No we can't! Because we didn't have people we fucking _trust_ guarding the goddamn door! And I don't suppose any of you thought about who had the kit last! It was the muscle! The muscle we hired to take out the guards! The muscle that has cheated us out of the biggest take we've ever had! Not to mention the fact that-just in case you forgot-THE COPS ARE GONNA BE HERE IN HALF AN HOUR!

"Our brilliant, tiny window of opportunity has now become a goddamn death sentence! There's nothing Lydia can do from the outside! The bastard-that I advised against every- fucking- SECOND- has the fucking explosives with him! All those shiny little things that go boom-the things that stood a tiny chance of getting us the hell out of here-he FUCKING HAS THEM!"

He punched the nearest wall for emphasis. As the pain shot through his arm-he'd definitely broken his wrist-he caught Scott and Allison turning to each other out of the corner of his eye. Scott ran a hand up her arm and draped it around her shoulders, letting her bury her face in his neck.

"Where the fuck is Isaac?" he croaked, scanning the dark room. Scott shrugged. He walked back past the paintings into the little room where the diamonds had once been. Trashed metal boxes and stray cash littered the floor, and in the corner, his boyfriend was curled in on himself, his fingers tangled in his hair. 

Stiles walked up and kneeled next to him, putting his hand against Isaac's elbow. "Isaac..." His tone changed drastically from what it had been a second ago as he rubbed slow circles into Isaac's back. A soft whimper came from somewhere underneath the mess of curly hair and sent pangs of hurt straight to Stiles' chest. 

"It's okay," he whispered, sitting down on the vault floor. His free hand-the one not on Isaac's back- traveled down Isaac's side and wound around his chest, pulling him out of the fetal position and back against Stiles. He started blowing cold air against Isaac's face and neck, and pulled his soggy t shirt off his chest. 

Goosebumps sprang up all over Isaac's skin. He finally dropped his hands. Stiles noted the claws and checked for blood on his scalp and his upper arms. There was none, but his hair was noticeably more disheveled. He smiled and plunged his fingers into his curls, pulling a little so his head came to rest on Stiles' shoulder. 

"You're okay, I promise." He leaned down to place small kisses on his shoulders, then his neck, and his lips when he was ready. 

Isaac whimpered again, but it was different from the other whimper, the scared one that Stiles hoped he never had to hear again. "We should get up?" His eyes never left Isaac's, even as he slipped his hand beneath his shirt and pressed down, just enough so that he could feel the pressure.

Isaac nodded, professional mask falling into place. He pulled Stiles off the ground with him, hand slipping to his holster as they walked back to the others. 

"Stiles-" Scott disentangled himself from Allison and walked toward them.

"Don't. Just...Let me think, okay?" He tried to kick his mind into high gear, but there was nothing there to work with. Instead, just for a second, he let himself focus on Isaac's warmth next to him. He couldn't hear his heartbeat, but he knew it was there, and it helped him calm down. 

"We could always shoot our way out," Isaac muttered, low enough for just Stiles and the werewolf present to hear him. Scott's eyes widened, prompting a shrug from Isaac. Stiles started pacing. He'd seen this before. The dark-sometimes bordering on too dark- humor after freezing up. It was never cause for any actual worry, and he had bigger things to think about. Like how the fuck he was gonna get them all out of a sealed vault.

He cut across the room to Allson and lifted her wristwatch to his eyeline. Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes and steel walls way too thick to punch through, no matter how angry he got. He stepped back from her. There was no way a human could punch through the walls. But a werewolf, if he knew where the vents were... "Scott. Isaac." His best friend straightened up, already in battle stance. Isaac just peeked up at Stiles through his eyebrows. "Here's what we're gonna do." Fifteen minutes later, twenty armed policemen pointed their weapons at an empty vault with a hole in the wall and four teenagers climbed down the outside of the bank. A black van was waiting, driven by a redhead wearing a dark shade of lipstick. 

"What the holy hell happened in there?" she asked out the window as the group piled into her car. "Where's Derek?" Lydia dropped her earpiece on the seat next to her and pulled onto the main road. 

"Gone," Stiles said, the word coming out like a curse. "Did you track our signals?"

"Still tracking." She nodded toward the computer next to her. 

"I ever tell you how brilliant you are?"

"Almost daily." He grabbed the computer, planted a quick kiss on Lydia's cheek, and settled back next to Isaac. "Strap in everyone."

"Here's hoping the fucker still has our tech on him."

"You're going after him?" Allison asked, leaning over from the backseat to look at the screen.

"He has something that belongs to me. Any objections?" Isaac chuckled and leaned over to nuzzle up against Stiles' shoulder as typed. 

"He might be working with a team," Scott warned. 

"He isn't. His team's dead." Everyone in the car turned to look at him. "I do my research." Stiles told Lydia where they were headed, staring at the stupid blinking red dot in front of him with his eyebrows furrowed.

"I ever tell you how hot you are when you take charge like that?" Isaac muttered, pulling Stiles' earlobe between his teeth. 

"Later," Stiles whispered, though he could practically feel all his blood rushing south. And if he could feel it, then Isaac could definitely sense it. 

Almost as if on cue, Isaac let out a low whine and slid his hand up the inside of Stiles' thigh, stopping just short of where Stiles wanted him.

"What if I have something that'll make you very, _very_ happy?"

"Isaac come on, not now," Scott groaned from behind them.

Isaac sat up, fingers trailing along the inside of Stiles' leg, and picked up the backpack sitting next to him. "You know, Scott, you should think about getting your mind out of the gutter occasionally." He unzipped the main pouch and held it up for Scott and Allison to see. Inside were stacks of hundred dollar bills, and a few glittering rings. Isaac smirked as Scott's jaw dropped, zipping up the backpack again.

Stiles poked his head in between the two front seats. "Take a right up here. Then..." He dropped the computer on the seat next to Lydia. "Then follow the blinking dot." He turned back around and straddled Isaac, running his thumb over his bottom lip. Isaac's mouth fell open at the touch, but otherwise he didn't move, preferring instead to keep his eyes fixed on Stiles. At least until he shoved his tongue down his throat, kissing him back down to the seat. Stiles reached up and tangled his fingers in Isaac's hair, yanking a little bit until he groaned and shifted beneath him. He knew he couldn't do what he wanted, because they still had business to finish, but for right now just kissing him was okay.

Scott and Allison groaned in unison, but no one's complaints were enough to dislodge them, at least until Lydia pulled up to a dark building and cut the engine. Stiles pulled back, panting hard as they started gathering up their weapons. On the way out the car, he slipped his arm around Isaac's waist, falling back behind everyone else. 

"Be careful," he whispered, tugging on the front of Isaac's shirt until he leaned down and pressed his lips against his own. His chest rose and fell slowly, pressing up against Isaac with every inhale.

"I always am, baby."


End file.
